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Red: The Untold Story Page 6
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“Oh yeah, Agnes and Aerik.”
“Yep. And Aerik was actually named after Theowulf’s son. And um… and there’s also Cora Gray.”
“And do you all vote for them or—”
“They’re chosen at birth and raised by the Elders that are in place at the time. We go to them with any problems we have, and they also run our church.”
“Church too, huh?”
“Mm-hm.” I nodded. “We have our own religion.”
“Cool. Can you liken it to any other religion?”
“Um, yeah, it’s a lot like the Christian religion, but we worship Carne, and a lot of us also believe in the Christian god.”
“Which is okay by Carne?”
“Sure is.”
“Right. So it’s a pretty relaxed religion?”
“Yes and no. I mean, we don’t have to go to church every Sunday, but each of us must be ordained into the pack by the blood of our fathers.”
“Ordained?”
“Welcomed. Kind of like a Christening, but they pour your dad’s blood over your head and paint runes on you that you can’t wash off for seven days.” I laughed. “We believe that if you don’t get ordained then you walk the earth in solitude. A lone wolf. Never belonging to anything.”
“So that’s pretty important to wolves?” he asked. “Belonging?”
“It’s everything,” I said, feeling the weight of that statement.
“I guess that’s why you felt so isolated when you found out you’re half human.”
“Yes.” I rolled onto my back, giving Sacha a little pet with the tip of my finger when she rested her nose back on my hip. “There’s nothing more lonely than losing your pack. It’s like everyone in your family dying, and then losing everyone in your town, followed by your childhood home burning down.”
He paused for a second, then laughed. “Ouch.”
“I know, right?” I pressed my hand firmly into my chest, drowning in my own pain for a moment.
“So is Mayor Canin your main go-to guy? Like do the Elders share the tasks evenly, or is there one that’s more high up than the others?”
“Aerik is the ‘go-to guy’, if you want to put it that way. He’s a really good person, good wolf. He takes care of most things—”
“Like murderers and robbers?”
“Yes.”
“So he kills people when they commit a crime?”
“No. He has to hold a trial first, and all wolves have to agree. Then the accused has to offer themselves for punishment. We don’t just hunt them down and slay them.”
“What happens if they refuse?”
“Then they’re cast out of the pack.”
“Which is worse than death?”
“Not worse than death, but pretty close.”
“So is everything punishable by death?”
“Nah. Only things like child abuse, and murder.”
“Yikes.”
“Well, why shouldn’t they be?”
“No, you’re right. If human laws were like that, we’d have a lot less crime.” He rolled out from under my head and propped his chin up with the heel of his palm, while I laid down flat on the grass in his shadow. “And your pack, they all live in this town?”
“Yes.”
“How many are there?”
“Um… about two hundred—aside from the army.”
“Wow. Two hundred of you to thirty thousand of us. We outnumber you.”
“Mm, but we’re the biggest pack in the world. Which is owed to our army.” I nodded to the hill. There, you could just see one of the Ravenswood Mansion towers sticking up above a tree. “We’ve never even been to war. Just the fear of our army is enough to deter rogue wolves or other alphas from trying to claim our territory.”
Alex’s eyes fixed on the hill. “The Ravenswood Mansion. That’s where your army lives?”
“That’s what they say. It’s where Luther lives, I know that much.”
“I’ve heard so many stories about that place—none of them good.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. When I was growing up, George and I used to make up ghost stories, and kids used to tell us they were a cult organization that ate humans there.”
“Well, I guess it might look like a cult with so many people living up there; you know, servants and the wives and the sons.”
“The wives?”
“Mm-hm.” I nodded. “Luther has many wives. Takes one every twenty years…” We were getting awfully close to the truth about what I had to do. I wondered if I’d be able to tell him. To just spit it out. “It’s how he gets so many sons to build an army. They each give him five sons, but everyone says they had more than that.”
“Creepy.”
“Yeah.” I laughed hard, rolling onto my side to hide my inner agony. “I said that when my parents told me about it.”
“So, truthfully, have you ever seen the Ravenswood Estate?”
“Yes. When I was five. I went to a party at the mansion there.”
“A party. Whose party?”
“The alpha’s.”
“What was it like?”
“Grand. We can’t see the mansion from down here, and I don’t remember seeing the outside, but inside there were chandeliers and shiny cutlery. And I remember looking out a window and seeing that the estate went on for miles. The ground is flat up there. It’s actually a hilltop set against the side of the second peak. They even have a dairy farm, and heaps of sheep.”
“We should sneak up there one day.”
“Human kids do that all the time,” I said in a tone that advised against it. “It’s actually a real problem we’ve had to deal with, because if they spot anyone turning into a wolf, or if they found someone’s Shedding around, people would discover us. So they have patrols and they keep a wide perimeter.”
“So we’d never make it?”
“Not in a million years. We wouldn’t even get close enough to see the color of the brick.”
“Drat.” He lay flatter on his side, making the sun shine in my eyes without his head there. “Well, it sounds like a pretty in-depth world.”
My lips narrowed a bit. That’s the second time he said something like that. “It’s not just a story, Alex. It’s real.”
“I know,” he said in a simple voice. “Hey, you wanna go get George and go for ice-cream and shakes?”
My stomach rumbled at mention of it. “Yes! But let’s walk and we’ll bring Sacha.”
Alex laughed. “The way you two act, someone might think she was your dog.”
“Look away long enough and she will be.”
He laughed again. “You wanna take her home with you tonight?”
“Could I?” I sat bolt upright and hugged Sacha to me.
“Sure.” He gave me a gentle smile. “But only if you promise to bring her back to me tomorrow.”
“I promise,” I said, crossing my heart.
***
Mom stood behind Alex with her arms folded, an odd look on her face, as though she wasn’t quite sure what to make of the human boy standing outside my bedroom door with two cans of paint in hand, a few rollers tucked under his arms, and a black plastic paint tray.
“Alex.” I opened my door a little wider, thankful Mom had made me clean my room this morning.
“I’ve come to free you,” he announced.
“Free me?”
“From the confines of these ordinary blue walls.”
My eyes went again to the paint cans and then back to Mom for approval.
“Go for it,” she said, shrugging. “And Alex? Nice to finally meet you. After all, you two have only spent every day together for the last two weeks.”
“And a few sunrises,” Alex added.
“Catching bubbles, I hear.” Mom winked at me, shaking her head and smiling as she walked away. I wasn’t sure she believed me about that, but I knew she wouldn’t mind. As long as I was being the sensible person she raised me to be; you know, not doing anything with
Alex that she wouldn’t approve of.
I shut the door and Alex put the cans down with a certain amount of relief, lifting a satchel from over his head and placing it down too, then he pressed his hands to his hips as he took my room in with a ready sigh. “You’re right, Red. This world needs help.”
“How will you help it? What do you have in mind?”
He bent and picked up the roller. “My mom always said, ‘If you don’t like the world you live in, paint a new one.’”
It clicked, with a flutter of excitement. “The snow and the straight trees!”
“You got it.” He winked at me, looking strangely cute as he did.
I walked over and stood beside him, both of us taking in the canvas: four blue walls, a bookshelf, desk, and bed to paint behind, and one thin shelf hung on the wall by the window. I’d have to take down my Edgar Allen Poe poster and the torn boyband one that’d been there since I was ten.
“Can you paint?” I asked.
“Paint?” he said, pouring it into the black tray. “Yes. Am I artistic? Don’t know. Never tried to be.”
“Me neither.”
We both picked up rollers and dipped them in crystal white paint.
“What’ve we got to lose, right?” Alex said with a shrug.
I grinned. “Let’s do it.”
And with only insight and optimism on our side, we ran circles around the room, making rolling snowy hills like the ones that surrounded our town in winter, going up and over each other as we crossed paths, making some of the snowy hills as high as my shoulders. When we were done, Alex reached into his satchel for more supplies. We swapped out the white rollers for thick dark gray brushes and thinner ones with ochre to make light-shadows on the tall, thin trees we painted all around. When it was finished, it actually looked amazing.
“Wow,” I said, paint-stained hands on hips.
“Not yet,” Alex dug into his satchel again and drew out a fat jar of silver, placing it in my hand. “It still needs the magic.”
“The magic?” I took off the lid and the sunlight caught the shimmery sparkle inside. “Glitter?”
“Not glitter,” he said, and the ceiling fan came on. “Magic.” Alex flashed me a cheeky, kind of mad grin from across the room.
“You’re joking,” I said. “Tell me you’re joking.”
“When do I ever joke about glitter?”
Alex took the jar and flicked it toward the ceiling. A thick burst of silver moved toward the fan like a thundercloud, catching the wind there and splitting apart into a million sparkly particles. I watched as it stuck itself to the wet paint, my hair, my clothes, my floors, touching everything with that Alex Plain Magic, or maybe chaos. There was no spot untouched by it. I lifted my foot and the glitter had even managed to get in under my shoes and I was sure I had it in my bra too.
“There now.” Alex took my hand and pulled it, showing me around my room. “It’s perfect.”
“Everything is magical,” I noted, forgetting about the mess I’d have to vacuum up later. The trees glistened and the sky had stars, while the snow reflected back like a twinkly frosted blanket.
“But it’s missing something.” Alex pressed a finger to his lip, folding one arm across his waist as he studied my walls. Then he left my room and came back two minutes later with our foam dish sponge.
“What are you doing?”
“Strange birds,” he said, cutting the sponge with a pair of scissors. He squatted down and dipped it in the dark paint, showing it to me after.
“Strange birds,” I said, standing back as he stretched to the highest point his arm could reach and pressed the bird-shaped sponge to my wall, repeating the process until there was a mysterious flock of crows moving across my wall and out my window to freedom.
“Where do you suppose they’re going?”
Alex dropped the sponge in the tray. “To see George.”
“What will they tell him?”
“That he can fly now,” he said sadly, arms folded as he stood in the pale white light coming through my window. “That I’m ready now.”
“That you’re ready?”
Alex looked back at me sadly, where I stood in an inch-deep pile of glittery death; and I say death, because my mom was going to kill me when she saw it. “They’ll tell him that I’ll be okay if he does.”
I folded my arms and studied the birds, imagining them coming to life and flying right out my window, leaving my wall bare. They’d go all the way across the park to the blue house with the tall tower, and they’d find George in his study. They’d whisper in his ear and he’d stand up, sprouting wings that would tear holes in the back of his shirt. They’d be wide, green wings, all feathery and pearly in the light. He’d fly away with them, and he’d be so happy to feel the wind under his feet.
“Alex?”
“Yes.”
“What do you mean by that? That you’ll be okay? Don’t you always swim with George when he flies?”
“Not this time, Red.” Alex’s voice had a flat, deep tone to it that I hadn’t heard before, as if he was a teenager when he went to sleep but grew into an adult overnight. “George is dying.”
“What?” I felt suddenly cold.
“You remember a few weeks ago when I told you about his seizures?”
“Yes.”
“Well, see… when he had his accident, his brain had swelling. It caused some problems that no story world can take away.” And now I recognized that flat tone; it was forced maturity slipping in—the kind that stole my mom’s light when Dad got sick. “The doctor says if he has another bad seizure, he won’t wake up again.”
“Alex.” I wrapped my arms around him, even though his stayed down by his sides, and hugged him tight.
“What will I do without him, Red?”
“He’ll be okay. He has to. He’s George. He can’t leave us here alone. He wouldn’t do that.”
Alex nodded, wiping his eyes with a glittery hand.
“Is there anything that can help him? A radical new treatment maybe?”
“Not that they aren’t already doing.”
“And how is Plain taking it?”
“He’s…” Alex’s eyes glazed over and he reversed himself until he sat against the foot of my bed. “He hasn’t invented anything in days.”
This was bad. This was very bad. How could such a nightmare touch such a magical family?
I walked closer and stood with my knee touching his. “I’ll speak to him.”
“To my dad?”
“No. To George. I’ll tell him he has to live.”
“Would you?”
“Of course. And he’ll listen to me, because he likes my hair.”
Alex laughed. “I like your hair.”
“Do you?”
“Yeah.” He reached out and tugged a lock playfully, smiling for a moment until he released the hair but not the smile. “You’re a good friend, Red.”
“And you’re a good person, Alex. You don’t deserve this. Neither does George.”
“No one ever deserves what happens to them, Red. But they have to face it either way.”
“I don’t want you to have to face this.”
His mouth pulled into a soft smile again. “I can face it better if I have you.”
My elbows felt cold. I tried to smile, but the truth about my future made my lips turn down, knowing that our friendship had grown so deep in just a few short weeks and, now, not being friends anymore would be hard for us both. It was time to tell him. But there was a sadness to him today that I hadn’t seen before, or maybe hadn’t noticed, so I decided it could wait until tomorrow. We’d be back at school then, and Naki would be back to care for George, and maybe Alex could handle the news better if he didn’t feel so obviously alone.
Part Two: Chapter Four
Tomorrow and All the Tomorrows to Follow
It would be kinder to cut him off—to maybe just stop being friends for no apparent reason, as if maybe I lost interest in it. It w
ould have been kinder to both of us if the world never let us meet. But now we had, I didn’t know how to tell him I’d be gone soon.
At school, when I saw him with his friends, I quickly walked away. He tried to say hello, but I couldn’t bring myself to face him. Being that he was a grade above me, I knew I wouldn’t see him again until lunch, so I spent the entire morning planning what I would say. Or how I would avoid it.
“You’re not wearing your ring?” Brian said, leaning forward from the desk behind to tap my shoulder. “Isn’t that an insult to Luther?”
Brian. Brian Northlake, originally of the Northlake wolves—before Luther conquered their pack seventy years ago. Big, bulky, fur coat as black as the ace of spades under a full moon. Most sought after male in my pack. Once my biggest crush.
Before the holidays, I’d have given anything to have him talk to me, touch me. Now, I just felt annoyed.
“I am wearing it.” I showed him my leather necklace. “I just didn’t want to lose it at school.”
“You should wear it on your finger.” He got up out of his chair and came to sit in the vacant one beside me. “Everyone’s dying to see it.”
“They are?”
“Yes.” He looked at the front of the room. The teacher didn’t seem too fazed about us talking, so he leaned in and I could smell his deodorant. It made me breathe deeper for a moment. “You’re coming to sit with us at lunch, right? I know you distanced yourself a bit after we all learned you were half human, but you have to know that’s in the past now, right?”
His cute eyes drew me in, making me want to tell him what he wanted to hear. It made me feel like a weakling, and also important. Because I was important. I would wed the alpha and I would bear the next generation of immortal wolves. What they thought of me before was in the past now. What mattered was what they thought of me now.
“Sure,” I said. “It’s in the past.”
He smiled hugely and leaned back, rubbing my arm softly as he did. I liked that. I liked soft touches on the arm from guys I had a crush on once. I liked feeling like a part of their world again.
When I looked away from Brian, a few pairs of eyes around the room were on me. I expected dirty looks, but as I met each gaze, smiles were offered instead. I smiled back, sinking in to the relief that my life was finally back to normal. That a few months of misery and that one afternoon of isolation that led to meeting Alex, and then the weeks of living in his magical worlds, all felt like a dream now. I felt like I was waking up and I was finally back home to where I was supposed to be. Everything would be all right now, just like I promised Mom.